The rain gullies the garden paths
And tinkles on the broad sides of grass blades.
A tree, at the end of my arm, is hazy with mist.
Even so, I can see that it has red berries,
A scarlet fruit,
Filmed over with moisture.
It seems as though the rain,
Dripping from it,
Should be tinged with colour.
I desire the berries,
But, in the mist, I only scratch my hand on the thorns.
Probably, too, they are bitter.
~The Tree of Scarlet Berries by Amy Lowell
5 Comments
Ashley
29 July 2011 at 19:57What a beautiful poem, and a gorgeous photo to go along with it. Are those berries from an ash tree?
Angie
29 July 2011 at 21:55Hi Ashley – yes, i think it’s a rowan which is a type of ash tree – i love the berries at this time of year
Eva
29 July 2011 at 23:04lovely polaroid!
kim klassen
26 August 2011 at 22:09oh yes… beautiful words and image… truly…
thanks for sharing at SS.. xxo
Angie
26 August 2011 at 23:15thanks, kim x